


Bad Ideas

by BackupZebo



Series: Bad Ideas [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (Mis) Adventures of SHIELD agents, Clint Barton Feels, Clint's stupid, Cussing, F/M, Gen, I'm tryna be funny, Natasha is done, Orirginal Characters, Pre-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-11 16:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11717973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BackupZebo/pseuds/BackupZebo
Summary: Bad ideas. Natasha was full of them. Trying to calm Bruce Banner down on the helicarrier was one of them and let's not even mention the Budapest incident... A collection of interconnecting bad ideas and bad decisions made by Natasha, Steve, Clint and Clint's new partner





	1. Minor Breaking and Entering

Bad ideas. Natasha was full of them. Trying to calm Bruce Banner down on the helicarrier was one of them and let's not even mention the _Budapest_ incident. Her latest had to be one her less favourable moments. As she walked down the hall from the gym, Natasha wondered just what she was thinking when she had agreed to help Maria Hill train the new recruits. Alcohol must have been a sure factor. Hill was shrewder than she looked sometimes. Natasha sighed heavily as she strode down the hallway of the Triskelion, glancing at the dull grey walls and dark tiled floor that led to the locker rooms.

As Natasha pushed open the door of the female locker room, the sound of someone singing out of tune from the showers interrupted her thoughts. _Great, Sparky's back_ , she thought. Agent Jamie Hennessy, or Sparky as Natasha liked to call her, was an Irish agent recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D due to her… talents and abilities. Though Natasha suspected the fact that Hennessy had an electric current running through her veins may have played a factor. Natasha went to her locker to retrieve shampoo and soap and winced as Hennessy continued to belt out _Single Ladies_.

The locker room was pretty big with rows of bright red lockers stretching across the room with a couple of benches between each row. Natasha took a towel from the rack on the right beside the door and made her way toward the shower room on the left. Pushing open the door, she heard the singing stop as she walked over to a cubicle at the end of the room.

"Hey, Romanoff," Natasha heard Hennessy say.

"How'd you know it was me?" Natasha queried as she turned on the water. "Lucky guess, plus I saw red reflected in the tiles," the other woman replied. Natasha smirked as she massaged shampoo into her auburn locks. "So, how was the mission?" she asked. Sparky and Clint had just got back from a mission in the Sahara.

"It was fine, some guy was playing with gamma radiation in the middle of the goddamn desert. We shut him down, but now I got sand in places sand should never be." Natasha allowed herself a laugh at Sparky's description of the mission.

"How's Clint doing?" she asked.

"That big baby? He's fine, got burnt pretty bad in the desert because he forgot sunscreen. I'm Irish, I need all the UV protection I can get, no way was I sharing. Other than that he's fine," the other woman replied. Agent Hennessy and Clint were partnered together after the Battle of New York. After having Loki run riot in his mind, Hawkeye had to go through basic training again, much to his dismay. Natasha was partnered with Captain America, otherwise known as Steve Rogers. They were two unusual partnerships: a walking power generator and a mentally unstable archer, and America's golden boy and an ex-Russian and ex-KGB spy. Natasha contemplated this as she washed her hair. After about fifteen minutes, she turned the water off and wrapped her towel around her. Hennessy was already almost dressed in the locker rooms, having finished showering about ten minutes ago. As the Irish agent pulled on her white vest top, Natasha glimpsed a series of scars littered across Hennessy's back. She remembered that Hennessy described the burning under her skin after her _'accident'_ , it was so bad that Sparky had clawed at her back in a fruitless effort to relieve the pain. Hennessy had never actually explained what had happened to her, though. Natasha didn't take offence houwever, she too had stories and scars that she would rather not describe. 

The super-spy waddled over to her locker in her towel, the locker directly opposite Hennessy's.

"You got a hairbrush, Romanoff?"

"No, try one the newbie's lockers." Breaking into lockers was on of Sparky's best talents, it was quite the party trick. A burst of laughter caused Natasha to whirl around while she was putting on her top.

"Oh my god! Look at this!" Hennessy had broken into one of the lockers, apparently this locker belonged to a Captain America super fan. There was posters, photographs and newspaper cuttings. "Who the hell owns that?" Natasha said, laughing.

"Some girl called Beth. You train her?" Hennessey asked turning toward Natasha as she pulled on a red and black button-up shirt. Natasha thought back to the sparring session she had come from and shrugged.

"No, she must have gone to the range with Hill. Oh my God, I gotta show Rogers." Natasha took out her S.H.I.E.L.D issued smartphone and snapped a picture quickly. Hennessy took out a hairbrush and promptly locked the shrine. Natasha returned to her locker, stepping over the bench.

"I was thinking of going out to a pub tonight. Ireland are playing England in the rugby. You and Cap wanna come with?" Natasha whirled around to face the other agent who was brushing out her light brown hair with her head upside down. People didn't usually invite Black Widow on a night out.

"Don't you have a mission report to fill out for Fury?" she asked, raising a sceptical eyebrow. Hennessy gave a crooked smile.

"Yeah, what's your point?" she replied, running her hands through her hair. Natasha laughed, there was no possibility of persuading Sparky to stay home, especially if her beloved Ireland were involved in any type of televised competition. Natasha sighed. "What time?"

"Half seven, maybe?" came the answer. "I'll think about it?" Natasha said as she packed up her gear bag.

"Always the mysterious answer, Romanoff," chuckled Hennessy as she put Beth's hairbrush back into her own locker and threw the dirty, sand covered clothes from her mission into the laundry baskets in the corner.

"Where are you headed?" Hennessy asked as Natasha walked toward the door.

"Food," the redhead replied.

"Let's go." Hennessy practically ran over to Natasha and they walked out the door, toward the food court.

* * *

Natasha filled her tray with a salad, a slice of cheesecake with a drink of Sprite. When she turned toward Hennessy she saw that the other agent's tray was laden with food, with a hamburger, a slice of pizza, a portion of fries, a slice of fudge cake and a large Coke. "Hungry?" Natasha asked, eyebrow raised.

"You try living off camel milk and dehydrated fruit for three weeks," Sparky retorted. Natasha rolled her green eyes and scanned the food court for a table, her eye was caught by someone waving them over. Steve and Clint were sitting at a table in the middle of the court. Steve saw them and waved them over while Clint continued stuffing his face.

"You ladies took your sweet time," Clint said as the girls approached the table.

"Didn't realise you boys were so desperate to see us," Natasha replied with a wink as she sat down opposite Steve. Steve blushed slightly while Clint rolled his eyes.

"Sparky's going out tonight, you two in?" Natasha said as she tucked in to her burger. "Sure." Clint spoke through a mouthful of pizza.

"I don't know, Nat. We've got a mission on Saturday and Fury said he wants us to behave between then and now," Steve reasoned. Clint and Hennessy looked horrified at the notion and Natasha rolled her eyes for the fifth time that day.

"All the more reason to go out, and I'm pretty sure by _us_ he meant _me_ ," she told him. Steve sighed, admitting defeat, and looked down at his tray.

"7:30," Hennessy informed him. The group finished eating in silence until Clint stood up and announced his departure, Hennessy left with him stating that Clint owed her a ride home as she had given him water in the desert. That left just Black Widow and Captain America at the table.

"Those two are pretty close now, considering they couldn't stand the sight of each other at first," Steve said as he watched the other two leave. Natasha nodded absentminded as she pulled her phone from her pocket and turned the photo of the shrine Hennessy found in Beth's locker towards Steve.

"Hennessy broke into some newbie's locker and found your biggest fan," she said as Steve took the phone from her. He laughed quietly at the picture and Natasha couldn't help but notice how his smile light up his handsome face. _Wait! What?_ She thought, how the hell could she think that. She shook her head slightly to clear those thoughts out of her mind.

"Wow… Wait, did you say that Hennessy broke into this poor girl's locker," Steve asked, eyebrows raised. "Yeah. I knew people adored you but this seems a little extreme, don't you think," Romanoff replied in a bored tone.

"So you're telling me _Hennessy_ _broke into someone's locker_?!" Natasha sighed wearily. "Yes, pay attention." Steve looked at the phone, then back at Natasha, then, taking one last look at the shrine, he handed the phone back to his partner and shook his head.

"I need new friends…" Natasha laughed at him and stood up from the tabled, tucking her phone back into her pocket.

"I'll see you tonight, Captain Rogers." And with that she walked away, leaving the super soldier alone at the lunch table.


	2. Taking Clint to a Bar With a Karaoke Machine

Natasha didn't tend to stay anywhere very long. She owned a couple of apartments around D.C, all with different names on the deeds, of course. Her current abode was pretty basic. Sure, it had a nice kitchen, a comfy couch, a television, a good sized bedroom and bathroom. But if the authorities or angry mobsters ever showed up, there was nothing to show that anyone had lived there recently. The place was almost immaculate, there was very little food in the fridge, no knick-knacks or ornaments and the walls were bare apart from one mirror beside the front door. No photographs or anything remotely personal. It wasn't exactly homey, but then again, Natasha didn't like to call anywhere home. It suggested that one was emotionally attached to a place and  in her line of work she couldn't afford to be sentimental.

It was half past five when she arrived back the apartment, she had gone to the shooting range after lunch and stayed for two hours until she decided that she had done enough for one day. Natasha made a bee-line for the kitchen as she walked in, throwing her keys onto the windowsill above the sink. Sighing, she opened up to fridge to see if the was something edible in its meagre contents. She pulled out a half-eaten chicken sandwich, seriously considering it before coming to her senses and throwing it out. _'Lucky Charms it_ is, _'_ she thought, taking out a carton of milk and getting the cereal box out of a cupboard. They would probably be getting take-out at half-two in the morning anyway, if Natasha decided to go to that bar with Hennessy, Clint and Steve. She and Sparky could probably get the boys to pay for the food if they batted their eyelashes enough. Looking around at the bare, unwelcoming apartment, Natasha decided to take Sparky up on her offer.

She watched T.V for some time while she ate her _Cheerios_ , before going to get ready at six. If Hennessy said 7:30, she most likely meant 7. Natasha was ready pretty quickly, she decided to leave her red hair alone, leaving it in its natural curls. Dressed in a white blouse, black skinny jeans, her favourite leather jacket and a pair of boots, she grabbed her keys from the windowsill in the kitchen and left for Hennessy's place.

* * *

Sparky lived in one of the less well-off neighbour hoods. As she drove past, Natasha spotted Hennessy's black motorbike and Clint's dark blue Mazda parked outside the former's apartment building. Natasha remembered how excited the other woman had been when the Head of the Transport and Equipment Department had told her they had designed a bike especially for her. Natasha had to admit, it was pretty cool, only Sparky could power it, due to the electricity in her bloodstream. Parking in the garage, Natasha climbed out of her Corvette and pulled out her phone to call Hennessey.

"I'm here, buzz me in," she said, walking to the wire mesh door that led to the actual building.

"Pleasant as ever, Natasha. Come on up," Hennessy replied. Natasha walked through the door as it opened and pressed the 'call' button for the elevator.

The apartment building had been a nice hotel at one point, but now the wallpaper was peeling off the walls and the floorboards sagged. Natasha stepped into the elevator when it arrived and pressed the button for the first floor. The elevator hadn't aged well, either. The once elegant brass handrail was dented and tarnished, the mirror at the back wall was cracked and the once golden brown walls were discoloured and pale. Despite her generosity, Natasha knew that Hennessy earned half of what most senior agents did due to her not being at S.H.I.E.L.D. very long, something that Natasha had brought to Hill's attention more than once. Obviously nothing had changed. She made her way to number 158, and knocked on the door, knowing the doorbell was broken.

"It's open!" she heard Hennessy shout through the door.

Walking in, Natasha hit by a blast of music and couldn't help but notice the stark differences between her own apartment and her colleague's. There was photographs of landmarks and family members and posters for various bands and sports teams on the walls, there was even a couple of framed and signed sports jerseys hanging on the walls.

"I knew you'd come," Clint said from where he was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, beer in hand, Natasha smirked at him. His partner was sitting on the sofa, watching _Pitch Perfect_ for the tenth time. As Natasha sat down on the couch, Hennessy handed her a bowl of potato chips. "I'm fine, thanks anyway," she said, gently pushing the bowl away.

"Last chance, you can't live off _Cornflakes_ alone, you know." Hennessey was nothing if not persistent, Natasha sighed and took a fistful of chips. "I know, that's why I eat _Lucky Charms_." Natasha heard Clint chuckling into his beer at her reply.

"Someone really needs to give Captain America a watch," huffed Hennessy. As if on cue, they heard a knocking at the door and Hennessy jumped over the couch to let Steve in.

"Hello?" Hennessy yelled, laying on her the accent as thick as she could. "Are you de fella with the thingamajig?"

"What?" Steve answered.

"Ah, jaysus! Holy Mary mother of God! Are you one of dem lads who'll shteal me identity? The man in da telly warned me about you fellas!" Sparky continued. Natasha glanced over at Clint, who was red with the effort of holding back laughter.

"What the hell are you talking about?! Jamie?!" Steve was getting panicked at this stage and Natasha decided to put him out of his misery.

"She's _messing_ with you, Steve. Come in, door's open." Hennessy huffed and opened the door to let a relieved looking Steve in. "You had for me a minute," he said, cheeks slightly reddened. Hennessy smirked and bowed. Natasha clapped for her convincing performance.

"It was more than a minute, buddy," Clint said, finally letting out the laughter. Now it was Steve's turn to huff. "You guys ready to go?" he snapped.

"Yeah, yeah. Gimme a sec," Hennessey replied, disappearing through a doorway and returning with a navy hoodie which she pulled over, what Natasha guessed was an Irish rugby jersey, tucked into a pair of high-rise navy jeans. Clint threw Steve his car keys as Steve didn't suffer the effects of alcohol and the group made their way to Clint's Mazda.

"Where to?" Steve asked after they all bundled in to the car. Clint and Hennessy in the back and Natasha in the passenger seat.

"There's an Irish bar I usually go to. It's a couple of streets over. O'Conner's, I think it's called," Hennessy explained as Clint elbowed in her the gut while he searched for his belt buckle.

"Yeah, I know it," Steve replied as they moved out of the neighbourhood. After fifteen minutes, they all bundled back out of the car and entered the bar that two of the S.H.I.E.L.D agents knew. The lighting was quite dark inside and most of the light was provided by the candles dotted around the tables and the countertop of the bar. There was an Irish flag hanging at the left wall of the establishment. There was a raised platform at the back that housed about ten standard tables opposed to the other high tables and stools around. Some of the high tables were occupied and the group sat at the countertop of the bar. There was a screen pulled down at the back wall and the projector projected what Natasha suspected was just build up to the rugby match that Hennessy so eagerly anticipated. An older man in a shirt and slacks was behind the bar and Sparky and Steve received a huge hello.

"Hello, Steven! How are ya!" The bartender had an accent similar to Hennessy's.

"I'm good, these are my friends; Natalie and Clinton and this is-" Steve started.

"Ah, sure, I know the other lady. How are ya, Jamie?" the bartender exclaimed, turning toward Hennessy. "Not too bad, Jack. And yourself? I hope Lucy's keeping you in line!" Hennessy asked, smiling. Jack laughed heartily. Steve was startled by the resemblance Jack shared with an old Irish artist that had lived in Brooklyn  and gave the kids chalk to mark out hopscotch when he was a kid. It was that wizened painter that Steve had learned the basics of drawing and art from. He smiled wistfully at the unexpected memory.

"She's the boss!" Jack replied, his eyes smiling. "Now, what can I get ye?" he asked, rubbing his hands together.

"A beer, a Coke, a Magners and an Orchard Thieves, when you're ready, Jack," Hennessy ordered for the group. Natasha took a seat in the cushioned stool next to Hennessy, Steve sat down beside her and Clint sat on the other side of Hennessy. Someone tapped Sparky on the back on the back and she turned around to greet them. "You sure get around," Natasha said, sipping her drink when Hennessy turned back to them.

"Well, I get a little homesick sometimes and when I walk through that door-," she said pointing at the front door. "It's like I'm walking through the door of my cousin's pub back in Ireland. I get to be normal for an hour or two." Jack the bartender returned with their drinks just before the match started. Natasha looked around as the match began. She smiled at how animated all the fans in the bar got as the match wore on, even Steve and Clint got in on the excitement, joining in on songs they didn't know the words to.

* * *

Eighty minutes and four rounds of drinks later, it was safe to say that Natasha, Clint and Hennessy were not very sound of mind. Ireland won, which led to the entire bar launching into _The Fields of Athenry -_ a beloved traditional Irish song. Natasha was surprised that Steve knew all the words and smiled at the way he seemed to fit into the community so easily. However, things took a new turn when Clint found it… the karaoke machine… When he was sober, Clint was quite the singer, less so when he wasn't. He couldn't contain himself when he found the machine, immediately launching into Bon Jovi's _Livin' on a Prayer_ and eventually progressing into _We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together_ and _It's Time_ by Imagine Dragons. Natasha and Hennessy took out their phones to video the spectacle. Suddenly, Clint pulled Hennessy's arm to join him in song, though hesitant at first, after finishing her drink she joined him.

" _So this is what you meant, when you said that you were spent!"_ they sang. Steve, the only sober one, couldn't contain his laughter and ended up falling off the stool he was sitting on. Clint saw this and shouted: "DOG PILE!" before flinging himself on top of Steve, who omitted an undignified _Oof!_. He was followed by Hennessy, who took Natasha down with her, barely giving the redhead enough time to end the video. After a couple of seconds, Steve pushed them off of him and helped Natasha to her feet, leaving the other two on the ground, grappling with each other as they tried in vain to get up.

"You okay?" he asked, laughing. Natasha nodded as she plopped down onto her stool, slightly mortified. She turned her attention to the two people still lying on the ground and giggling. Hennessy managed to untangle herself from Clint and stood up, as she gave Clint a hand up, he almost pulled her down on top of him while singing: " _I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie woooorrrlllddd."_ Steve grabbed his other arm and pulled Hawkeye up.

"Okay, I think it's time to go now. Steve, pay the nice man," Natasha said hastily as she stood up, she could see that the other patrons of the bar were getting slightly irritated at Clint's antics. Steve sighed and handed Jack the bartender $35. Clint kept trying to claw his back to the karaoke machine, prompting Steve to throw the master archer over his shoulder. Natasha guided Hennessy out and waved obviously at the bar with an innocent smile in an effort to salvage their image. 

"Rock-n-Roll, motherfu-" Natasha leapt and clamped a hand over Clint's mouth before he could get them arrested. Steve waited as few seconds before dumping Barton on the pavement. His cheeks were rosy from the night air and stress of caring for Clint.

"Who's for take-out?" he asked exasperatedly, combing a hand through his now unkempt blond hair. Natasha laughed and helped Clint up. "I'll pay," she said, offering Clint her shoulder to lean on.


	3. Interrupting One of Natasha's Interrogations

"Time of interrogation- 2:30 AM, Sunday 13th of March."

"Interrogation carried out by Agent Romanoff. Also present at interrogation- Captain Rogers. Monitored by Agent Barton and Agent Hennessy." Natasha spoke as she turned on the microphone. Steve and Natasha had been sent to Kiev in Ukraine to shut down an illegal arms dealer who was starting to sell weapons to bigger gangs in Russia and China. The op went off without a hitch, they had taken the weapons and even managed to capture the man that was suspected of running the whole operation. Now Alexei Kolarov was seated and handcuffed at a table. Natasha was sitting opposite him, Steve was standing in a shadowy corner beside the door while Clint and Hennessy watched from behind the two-way mirror.

"How long before he talks? Ten, fifteen minutes?" Clint whispered, folding his arms. Hennessy lifted an eyebrow. "I'm going with five," she answered equally quietly. "Deal," Clint replied and they shook hands on the bet before turning back to the interrogation.

"I suppose you will be expecting me to tell you where I am keeping the rest of the weapons," Kolarov said. His expensive shirt was spattered with blood and his long, dark hair was matted and dirty. Natasha laughed and held out her hand to Steve, who emerged from the shadows and handed her a file.

"No, you see, your entire warehouse and office, including the weapons and files detailing exactly where and to whom you have been selling weapons, is now crawling with S.H.I.E.L.D agents and STRIKE operatives," Natasha said as she flicked through the file and handed it back to Steve, who flicked through it quickly.

"What do you..." Kolarov looked Natasha up and down and then craned his neck to look at Steve. "People want then?"

"12,000, 1,500, 2,000 and 500. These numbers sound familiar?" Romanoff asked. The thug in front of them stared down at his handcuffed hands, not uttering a word.

"No? Well, I better remind you. 12,000- the number of handguns you sold to an unnamed organization. 1,500- the number of suppressors and flashlights you sold to another unnamed organization. 2,000- the amount of automatic and semi- automatic guns you sold to... oh look, another unnamed organization. And finally, 500- the number of grenades you sold to... you guessed it, another goddamn unnamed organization."

"Well done, you can read my files," Kolarov sneered.

_CRACK!_

Kolarov's head snapped to the side as Natasha slapped him with the back of her hand. She pulled a tissue from a pocket in her stealth suit to wipe Kolarov's blood off her hand. Natasha pulled out the chair and sat down, resting a foot on the desk.

"You probably don't know how I am," she stated, leaning back. Kolarov raised his head just enough to look her in the eyes. I've heard stories. The rambles of dying men. A shadow and a flash of red, then nothing. I did not think they were real."

"I can assure you I am real," she promised. Natasha carefully removed her feet from the desk and sat forward. I can also tell you that I am a highly trained assassin who has been active since childhood. There is one reason you are still breathing. _One_. That is because you have information that my boss wants. Lucky for you, my boss is feeling generous. But generosity has its limits."

"Who did you sell to?" she asked again, remaining calm and collected. The thug stayed silent. There was a loud bang as she slammed her fist on the table and Kolarov jumped. His eyes darted wildly around the room, he was visibly shaking.

"I-I can't tell you, they will kill me and my family!"

"Oh yes, I almost forgot. A boy and a girl, Alexander and Nina, right?" Natasha said, leaning back in her chair.

"If any of you lay a finger on them, I swear-"

"You'll what? No matter what you say tonight, you're going away for a _long_ time. But you can make it easier, we can relocate your family, give them new identities and even make it possible for them to see their Daddy. All you have to do is tell us who you sold those weapons to and what they need that amount for," Natasha said, picking at her fingernails. Kolarov laughed manically, prompting Natasha to put a hand over the Glock in her thigh holster.

"How could you people promise me that? They will hunt me and my family down, kill us and take our bodies as an example to others."

* * *

 

Steve shifted from side to side uneasily, he didn't like where this was going. Natasha looked ready to kick Kolarov's head in. Steve felt his stomach drop as Natasha had jumped to her feet and glowering at Kolarov. She grabbed his face with her hand, digging her nails into his skin. Her actions may have been threatening but her expression was frighteningly passive. A detached look flashed across her eyes, when Steve saw the terror in Kolarov's face he decided to act, fearing for the man. Leaping into action Steve rushed over to Natasha and pulled her back. Natasha batted him off violently and stormed out the soundproof door of the metal-walled cell.

"What the hell, Steve?!" Natasha yelled once Steve had shut the door.

"You were going to kill him!" he yelled back.

"Do you honestly think I'm that stupid?!" Natasha looked visibly upset and Steve felt a little bad.

"It's not that, Nat. It's just-"

"Oh, give it up, Steve! You thought I was going to murder him!" she cut him off.

"Nat, c'mon. Just calm down," he said, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" she shouted, recoiling from his hand like he had pinched her and folded her arms.

"Nat! Please, I-" he began. The fury on her face was enough to silence him.

"Just, don't bother," she said as she walked down the hall toward the elevator. He heard her say something to the elevator but she didn't turn around as the doors close. Clint and Hennessy ran out of the room they had been stationed in.

"Where's Romanoff going?" Hennessy demanded, rounding angrily on Steve. He ignored the other agent and gazed after Natasha.

He made to follow her but a hand on his arm hold him back. He glanced down and saw it belonged to the archer.

"Let her go, Steve. She'll cool down¦ Eventually," Clint urged softly. "Right now, we need to focus on finding out who Kolarov was selling weapons to, okay?"

Steve sighed and turned to a flabbergasted and tired Hennessy.

"Where do we start?"

* * *

 

Natasha hopped into her black Corvette and sped out of the garage. She drove to her apartment but didn't get out of the car, not wanting to spend any more time in that miserable place. She drove past the apartment block and kept driving not knowing how long she had been driving for or where she was going.

Eventually she ended up at a lake surrounded by tree, she didn't know how she found her way there, but she got out of the car and sat on the bonnet as the sun began to rise.

Natasha knew that she had overreacted and that Steve was just being Steve. He couldn't help it. Steve always did things by the book and often Natasha's methods were less the ethical. This led Natasha to wonder why they had been partnered together in the first place.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringtone of her phone, pulling it out of her pocket, she saw that she had missed seven calls: four from Steve, two from Clint and one from Hennessy. Sighing, she lay back on the bonnet and covered her eyes with her arm with the intent of falling asleep

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the formatting is a little bit weird. I don't know what keeps happening! Apologies!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this was originally posted on Fanfic.net but I wanted to post some other work on here, so here goes nothing! I hope you guys enjoy this fic. Comment if you did!


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